I have before mentioned old Nanny, who kept a marine store, and to whom I used to sell whatever I picked up on the beach. She was a strange old woman, and appeared to know everything that was going on. How she gained her information I cannot tell. She was very miserly in general; but it was said she had done kind things in one or two instances. Nobody knew her history: all that anybody knew was that she was Old Nanny. She had no kith or kin that she ever mentioned; some people said she was rich, if the truth were known; but how are we to get at the truth in this world?
I was soon at old Nanny’s store, with the piece of rope coiled over my arm.
“Well, Jack, what have you got here? a piece of good junk? no, it is not, for it is quite rotten. Why do you bring me such things? What can I do with them?”
“Why, mother,” says I, “it’s new rope; not been used hardly; it’s the very best of junk.”
“Boy, boy! do you pretend to teach me? Well, what do you want for it?”
“I want a shilling,” replied I.
“A shilling!” cried she, “where am I to find a shilling? And if I could find one, why should I throw it away upon a thing not worth twopence, and which will only lumber my store till I die? The boy’s demented!”
“Mother,” says I, “it’s worth a shilling, and you know it; so give it to me, or I go elsewhere.”
“And where will you go to, good-for-nothing that you are? where will you go to?”
“Oh! the fishermen will give me more.”